Staverton (22 page)

A cry, over on my right, made me turn around. Caroline dashed over to me. In her exuberance, she knocked over my case as she hugged me, which made us both laugh.

“I hope there was nothing breakable in there,” Caroline said and held me at arm’s length. “Lucy, you haven’t changed a bit.”

“Apart from adding a few inches to my waistline.”

“Nonsense. You look amazing. Come on,” Caroline said and reached for my case. “Let’s get back. We’ve got so much to catch up on.”

Caroline led me over to a silver, convertible Mercedes, popped the boot open and shoved my case inside.

“Fancy car,” I said.

“It’s my mother’s. There’s not much point in me getting one. I’m never here.”

“But everything’s going well? The tour I mean?” I asked as we buckled up, and Caroline started the engine.

“Oh, yes. Dropping out of uni was the best thing I ever did.” Caroline, drove out of the car park, through empty parking bays, ignoring the one way system. An irate pensioner, behind the wheel of a Nissan, blasted his horn.

“I have missed you, Lucy,” Caroline said and looked over at me as I gripped the sides of the seat.

I tried to relax enough to smile. “It’s been a long time.”

Caroline looked good. Her red hair was whipped back by the wind, exposing her face. She still had freckles, but her face had lost its youthful plumpness. With her high cheekbones and full pouting mouth, she looked stunning.

“So,” Caroline turned in the driver’s seat and faced me. “What did you need to talk to me about?” She turned back to face the road, just as she started to drift into the opposite lane. She quickly swerved so we were back on the correct side of the white line.

I let out the breath I’d been holding. “I’ll explain later when we get to Staverton.” I didn’t want to distract her and end up in a ditch.

Caroline shot me a sideways glance. “Very mysterious.”

“How are things with you?” I asked.

“Pretty good. Although, I’m not seeing Jonathan anymore. Did I tell you about him?”

I shook my head.

“Well, that caused some problems. I can tell you, never get romantically involved with your manager.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” I said as Caroline took a corner so fast, the tyres on the Mercedes squealed in protest.

“Speaking of romantic involvements,” Caroline said and raised an eyebrow. “Michael’s at Staverton this weekend.”

I flushed. Both of Caroline’s brothers moved to London a few years ago. I knew Michael owned an art studio and gallery in Notting Hill, and Jake felt the market for his particular type of antiques was better suited to London. I hadn’t considered either of them might be at Staverton this weekend. Did that mean Jake might be there, too?

“Ah, Lucy, don’t get all embarrassed. Michael often asks after you.”

“Does he?”

Caroline laughed. “Yes, he’s always very interested to hear how you’re getting along.”

I thought of the last time I’d seen him, in the tacky American themed diner, when I wore that hideous stripy uniform.

The car sped past the countryside. Caroline kept looking over at me, rather than looking at the road.

I tucked some of my flyaway hair behind my ear. “Will Jake be there, too?”

“I thought Michael was the one you had designs on.”

“I don’t have designs on anyone. It’s a perfectly reasonable question.”

“All right,” Caroline said, raising her hands in surrender and letting go of the wheel, guiding it only with her knees. “I’m only joking.”

My stomach lurched as a tractor pulled across the road.

Caroline braked sharply and narrowly avoided the tractor. “I’m not sure if Jake will be there. He did say he’d try his best to get down to see me.” She shrugged. “So I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

Chapter 32

“Leave your stuff there for now. We can take it upstairs later. Let’s say hello first. They’re outside, I think,” Caroline said and wandered through the entrance hall, past the curved staircase, towards the back of the house.

I put my bags against the wall and followed Caroline. Staverton looked the same as it had five years ago, majestic and proud. On top of the huge table in the entrance hall, a vase filled with a magnificent flower arrangement took centre stage. The smell of freesias and furniture polish filled the air.

I walked along the familiar wood-panelled hall. I couldn’t resist a glimpse at the study as I passed, but the door was closed. When we walked through the French doors and stepped onto the terrace, I caught my breath. I’d forgotten how beautiful it was.

The lawns stretched down to the cliffs, and beyond the cliffs, the sea sparkled. The trees that grew along each side of the garden, tunnelled the eye straight down to the sea, and kept the garden private.

At the sound of chairs scraping on the terrace floor, I turned and saw Angela and Michael standing up to greet me. I moved forward and kissed Angela on both cheeks.

I turned to Michael. The wide grin and warm hug he gave me made me want to forget about Malcolm completely. He held me tight, then eased me back so he could look down at me. “It’s great to see you again, Lucy.”

He had the same dark hair, maybe slightly broader shoulders. But something was different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe it was his hair, which was a little longer than the last time I’d seen him. It fell forward, framing his face, making his brown eyes look even warmer. I stared for a moment before realizing I might look a bit odd, standing there, gazing up into his eyes.

I pulled back. “Good to see you, too.”

“Lucy, come, sit down and have a cup of tea. You can tell us all about the gallery. Caroline mentioned you are managing it now,” Angela said.

We all sat down, and Angela served drinks from a small trolley beside the table. She handed me a gin and tonic.

I took a sip of my drink, then glanced across at Michael. He smiled, and I realised what was different about him. He looked happy.

I hoped it was because his father now accepted Michael’s chosen career. Maybe Lawrence had mellowed. Maybe he had come to terms with the fact that neither of his sons would follow him into the family business.

We sat on the terrace, drinking and chatting about old times. The conversation flowed freely, but no one mentioned Gwen.

Michael told me he had been able to set up a studio in London, and his work was selling reasonably well.

“Oh, don’t listen to him, Lucy. He’s too modest. His work is selling faster than he can produce it. He’s doing incredibly well,” Caroline said.

“And your father and I are very proud of you.” Angela reached over and squeezed Michael’s hand. “Now, Lucy, tell us about your gallery.

Of course, strictly speaking, it wasn’t my gallery, in fact, I didn’t even manage it on my own, but I found myself overemphasising my responsibilities and the exhibitions I was involved in. I couldn’t help it.

Michael looked impressed, and I felt a warm glow of satisfaction as I answered his questions.

“There’s an exhibition I was planning to go to, in Edinburgh, at the end of the month. If you’d like to go, maybe we could meet up?” Michael asked.

I hesitated, aware everyone was looking at me. I caught the hurt look in Michael’s eyes. I wanted to say yes, but I didn’t know yet how they would react when they heard I’d been talking to Malcolm. It was extremely likely that when Michael found out, he wouldn’t want anything to do with me.

“It’s short notice, I know. So, if you have other plans, I understand,” Michael said.

Caroline shot me a sharp look.

“Well,” I set my glass on the table and leaned back. “It’s a really busy month, so I’m not sure how I’m fixed.”

“Okay. Just an idea.”

“I’ll let you know, nearer the time.”

“Sure.”

Before the conversation became too stilted and awkward, Angela intervened, asking me about the quality of shops where I lived. Relieved, I began to babble about how much I loved living in Edinburgh.

***

Angela left us on the terrace, saying she wanted to rest before dinner. After a minute or two, Caroline shot me a sly look and said, “Oh, I totally forgot, I have to make a phone call.” She stood up and took her glass with her. Halfway across the terrace, she turned and said, “Why don’t you two go for a walk? It’s a lovely evening.”

She was right. The sun was low in the sky and tinged the slivers of cloud with red and gold. It promised an amazing sunset.

“Would you like to go for a walk?” Michael asked.

How was this fair? Before I saw Malcolm last week, I would have leapt at the chance of a stroll along the beach with Michael. But now I couldn’t complicate things. It wasn’t fair to him.

“Actually, I wanted to take a shower before dinner.”

“Right.” I caught the wounded look in his eyes before he turned away. He got to his feet. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Okay.” I watched him walk off, across the lawn, towards the cliff path.

This was possibly the only chance I’d get with Michael. After this, we would slip back into the old friends routine. Was it really worth it? What if Malcolm was spinning me a line? I didn’t even know him that well.

Michael was heading down the cliff path now. In a few seconds, he would be out of sight. I could call him, run across the lawn to meet him.

But I didn’t.

I knew Malcolm’s grey, hollow face would haunt me if I didn’t follow this through.

Chapter 33

I was pretty sure Caroline’s phone call had been an excuse to leave Michael and me alone, which meant now would be the perfect time to talk to her, without anyone else around.

I found Caroline in the parlour, fixing herself a martini, her red cheeks indicated it wasn’t her first. She looked up as I came in.

“Oh, I thought you’d still be on your romantic stroll,” she said and poured a generous measure of vodka into the cocktail shaker.

I ignored her comment. “Can we talk, now?”

“I thought you liked Michael,” Caroline said. “Are you trying to play hard to get? Because Michael isn’t really one for games.”

“No, of course not.”

Caroline inverted the cocktail shaker. “You want one?”

“No, thanks.”

Caroline filled her glass to the brim. “I think he really likes you, you know. So be nice.” She took a sip and licked her lips. “Mmm. That is a good martini. Are you sure you don’t want one?”

“No, I’m fine. Look, Caroline, I really do need to talk to you.”

“Oh, yes, your mysterious problem you wouldn’t talk about over the phone.” She giggled.

I could have shaken her. Why did she have to drink so much tonight? It would be better to talk things through when she was sober, but I didn’t think I could keep it to myself all night. How could I spend the night at Staverton and sit through dinner with the entire family, with this hanging over me?

Caroline tried to stab an olive with a cocktail stick and missed.

I took hold of her by the arms. “Please, Caroline. I need you to listen to me. It’s important.”

I stared at Caroline, noticing white powder on the edge of her nose. “Are you taking drugs?”

“Of course not,” Caroline said. Don’t be so ridiculous.” But her face told me the opposite. She rubbed her nose.

“When did you start?”

Caroline narrowed her eyes. “Oh, don’t come little Miss Innocent with me. It’s none of your business anyway.”

“Caroline, I need to talk to you.”

“Okay, okay. You’ve got my attention. Go on.”

I waited for a moment. If Caroline was on something this wouldn’t be the best time to talk to her, but when else would I get the chance?

“It’s about Malcolm, Gwen’s husband. He wrote to me from prison.”

Caroline’s eyes widened, but she didn’t speak.

“When I visited him –”

“You visited him? Why? Are you crazy?”

“He says he’s innocent.” I released my grip on Caroline’s arms.

“Well, he would say that, wouldn’t he? Christ. I can’t believe you went to visit him. What were you thinking?”

“Caroline, please...”

Caroline shook her head. “All right. Go on.”

“He told me he thought Gwen was having an affair.”

The high colour in Caroline’s cheeks faded. She looked at me with narrowed eyes. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“No. But it might surprise you to know Malcolm thinks the affair was with Jake.”

Caroline’s glass lurched to one side, spilling some of the alcohol. She quickly straightened it.

Then she laughed, a high-pitched, hysteria-tinged laugh. Her cheeks flushed pink, and her eyes watered. She wiped the tears away, laughter still bubbling from her mouth.

Her laughter brought Angela into the room. “What’s going on?” she asked, with a confused smile on her face. She looked at Caroline’s red face and then at me.

“Ha!” Caroline spluttered and looked at me. “You do realise, don’t you, that Jake is gay?” She put a hand to her chest and took a deep breath. “I’m afraid old Malcolm was definitely barking up the wrong tree.”

She slumped onto the sofa and sipped her drink.

“But I saw him and Gwen that night, in the study.”

“That was a dream,” Caroline said, shaking her head.

“No I –”

“Of course it was a dream,” Angela said. “That night Lawrence and I were both there. We looked in the study, and there was no one there. Now, I’d be grateful if we could drop this subject. I don’t want anyone upset tonight. It isn’t often we manage to all get together like this.”

“Yes, you’re right. Sorry. It was just too funny to keep to myself.” Caroline smirked and took another mouthful of her martini. “Come on, Lucy. It was all a long time ago. Let’s put it behind us and go upstairs and get changed for dinner together like we used to.”

As I followed Caroline out of the room, I felt Angela’s cool stare on my back. She resented my presence, and who could blame her? She expected a nice weekend with her family, and I had plonked myself in the middle of everything, then made accusations against Jake.

How had Malcolm managed to get under my skin like that? I’d been stupid to trust him. Most prisoners claimed they were innocent, didn’t they? And now, I’d upset Angela, and turned down Michael, and all for what? All for a wife-murderer who tried to manipulate me into helping him, making suggestive comments. For all I knew, Angela or Lawrence may have mentioned the sleepwalking incident to Malcolm when it happened, and now he had decided to exploit that knowledge to his advantage.